Under The Same Sun
by If I Could I Wouldn't
Summary: Jace could be unpredictable at times, like when he came to my door dressed in a huge dinosaur onesie, or when he nicknamed my dog 'weasel' because I called it Punzie and lets not forget the time when he planned to sabotage my date using a newspaper and bowtie. You would have thought I got used to it, but then we kissed, and things got complicated. *Humour/Drabbly*
1. So What Was His Name?

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me._**

_**This isn't so much as a story as a group of independent ideas that are put all together in a completely random line-up but are all connected and ordered in a non-linear fashion. Also, I won't be updated regularly or frequently, it's more for when I'm tired of writing something with a plot**__**.**_

_**Inspiration: **Of Adoration and Chaos - frombluetored **(Doctor Who fanfic)**_

_**Title: **Under The Same Sun - Ben Howard_

_**Age: 8**  
_

_**Enjoy.**_

There was a boy sitting on my swing. His head was slightly bent forward so his hair, that looked like someone had pulled at it violently, fell in knots and waves in front of it. He looked around my age, but I couldn't exactly tell, his features were all hidden from view; secret.

It was all very mysterious, like some of the shows I would watch on TV where you never saw the bad guys face, but I didn't care – he was on _my _swing. The one that no matter what state it was in, even when it had rained and it was really wet and slimy, I would sit on every time I came to this park with my Mummy, and he, he was just _sitting _there. He wasn't even using it _to _swing; he was sitting on it, looking at the ground and kicking some rocks with battered trainers. Though, his trainers were cool, the kind that flashed whenever they were hit hard enough.

I didn't know what to do, I could go back to my Mummy but then we would have to go and I didn't want that. I could play with the other kids but I didn't want to do that either, they always wanted to play stupid games, like Tag, and they always made sure that I was the one who was trying to catch them with no help. I could go and sit on the other swing, next to his, but there was a reason that I hadn't chosen the other in the first place, I was covered in bird poo and no one ever sat on that one – ever. Which left me to pick one of two; I could push him off or talk to him.

I risked a glance back at my Mummy who was looking at a magazine she had picked up, the nice one she only got when she had money to spare, then back at the boy. She had told me not to talk to strangers but this boy was my age so it wasn't like he could do anything…

I stuck my head up, standing up straighter, I would go talk to him and make him give me my swing back then maybe we could talk about why he looked so lonely. I nodded to myself, starting the short walk forward over the black, swishy stuff that was supposed to make it hurt less then pavement when you fell of the climbing bars but never did.

When I finally got there he didn't do anything, busy toeing the ground; _still._ One last glance over my shoulder, just to confirm that the other kids were playing tag, and I looked back and jumped when I saw that the boy, the one I must have been staring at for a really long time, longer then it took for Mummy to make tea, had looked up, focusing his golden-brown eyes on me. He hadn't done anything but stare at his own shoes since I'd noticed him.

He didn't blink, just kind of stared; it was like looking at a living statue that only moved when you weren't looking.

"Why are you staring at me?" Daddy said it was rude to stare, he also said pointing, making rude jokes and having your elbows on the table were as well which he always did anyway so I ignored the last three.

The boy held my eyes, spring green, with his own for a few seconds longer before turning back to the patch of black stuff he seemed to like much more then talking.

"You're on my seat." At this his head came up, his nose scrunching slightly, making his eyes kind of scrunch together.

"What?" Mummy said we should say _pardon _but no one ever does, this boy included.

I sighed, "You're on my seat, I always sit there."

"Well, I'm sitting here now." I get it when people say someone snaps something; he said it like a crocodile would, if they could talk. The sentence just kind of stopped.

"But- But-" Maybe coming over to talk wasn't such a good idea after all, this boy was mean, he didn't even say _sorry _for taking my swing.

The boy grinned, just slightly, and then hopped off, coming over to stand next to me. "I have to go now anyway." He was just started to walk away, a little bounce in his step; like his flashing shoes also had springs on the bottom, when I realised – I didn't even know his name.

I ran after him, I didn't really need to since he had only taken a few steps away but I wanted his name and he might have left if I hadn't. I tapped him on the shoulder and he stopped; another really small smile on his lips.

"What's your name?"

At this he started stuttering, like he couldn't remember his name, but how could you not know your name? The thought that you could was impossible… unless he was like one of those kids on TV where they didn't have names and just numbers. They also worked in mines under the ground in another country.

"Ehhh, ehhh. He looked around when he saw something he must have liked because he straightened up, "My name is Alec Lightwood."

I turned around, spotting the Alec Lightwood sitting on the swing next to his sister, Isabelle. I pointed towards them, "that's Alec."

The boy glared at me then glanced around again, "I'm Sebastian Verlac."

"That's the boy over there."

"James Carstairs?"

"He sits next to me when we are in our maths places."

"Will Herondale."

"The annoying one with blue eyes."

"I give up."

"That's not your name."

His eyes scrunched up again, and a stand of hair fell in front of them. He shoved it out the way with his hand but it fell back down again and he huffed, holding it back while he started to speak again, "my name, is Jonathan Christopher."

I smiled, finally an answer. "Clary Morgenstern."

He scowled, letting the hair fall back down. "Now, I'm going." He stomped off, trying to pull the gate behind him but it was one of those that you was really slow and didn't move that fast so it just ended up with him looking like he couldn't even pull it closed.

He gave up after he saw he couldn't do anything with it and gave me one last glare before turning off to walk across the road towards a small house that I knew was Isabelle's.

Jonathan Christopher must be a friend's of Alec's.

I turned around and walked back to Mummy, completely forgetting about the whole encounter as soon as she mentioned something about cake.

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


	2. When Death Strikes

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me._**

**_Age: 16_**

It wasn't something you expected, not really. You also didn't expect the feelings that came with it. Maybe, once in your life, the thought would make an appearance – just for a second – and then it would be gone. It could be because it was too painful, or you couldn't comprehend life without them but you could never anticipate the pain that would come with losing them.

The ache in your chest that seemed to weigh you down wherever you went. The realisation that, when you turned around to tell them something, they would never be there to share the joke. And the worst one, the harsh numbness which kept you from being anything human for months afterwards.

You would know that they wouldn't want it to be that way, that if they could somehow give you a message, they would tell you this wasn't how they wanted you to remember them, cherish them, think of them, but you didn't know any better. They were gone and you couldn't do anything about it.

It wasn't a conscious decision to take the sketchbook, more to use as a source of comfort rather than anything else. But as I watched the ink, written long ago in neat curving script, smudge and create grey tracks down the rough page, I couldn't bear to look at it. Instead, I hugged it to my chest, feeling to familiar contours and lines press into my skin. Skin that was cold and unfeeling, I was past the shock and endless defeated crying that seemed to swallow me up and control my thoughts. Instead, everything was detached and broken, the warm rays of the sun doing little to ease the tremors and shakes that plagued me and the strong hand of my father, feeling and not feeling it all at once.

The harsh words etched into the unforgiving stone, like they didn't mean anything at all – worthless, thrown around, when really the reality of her death made me want to curl up in a ball and disappear altogether.

More tears fell silently, and only the quiet wind and my intake of small, desperate breaths broke the heavy silence. Silent tears were the worst, silent tears meant something had struck something so deep that you couldn't control the tears and, then, you didn't want to be noticed afterwards. Silent tears meant loneliness and heartbreak. They meant that a connection, a bond, something you trusted to stay true had be broken, then stamped on, then given back to you in pieces beyond any kind of repair.

I tried to find comfort in the fact that my father, always such a strong presence was standing by, real, whole, unmoving. He wouldn't go, he wouldn't leave, he wouldn't be taken away.

I didn't want to be alone.

Cold.

Empty.

There were so many things I didn't want to be, so many I wanted to be as well, and now, she wouldn't see it. Wouldn't see the bright smile that was sure to light my face, even if it seemed impossible now, when I did something I just knew she would be proud of. Something she would say she loved me for, and something that her eyes, so similar to mine, would be so proud of what I had done.

It was those things she was afraid of, the small things, like how deep a forest green her eyes were, or the sound of her laugh, or the way she would kiss my cheek in the morning and ask what I had for school today like she didn't already know my timetable.

I didn't want to forget a second of it, but it was inevitable, I couldn't stop time taking those things from me, or release all the pain knotted in my chest. Crying wouldn't help but still the tears fell onto the soft ground, wet with moisture from the foggy air.

It seemed like the whole world was crying at the loss but I knew they weren't. They were getting on with their lives, moving, rushing, forgetting, arguing, smiling, talking, laughing, not worried about the small red-headed girl in the cemetery with something huddled to her chest and her Dad's tall form next to her.

Only the clever ones would notice that the mother was nowhere to be seen. It was funny things like that, how you could miss such a huge detail that would tell you the very story of why I was here. Not that anyone would come out today, the weather was horrible, people just didn't believe in going out in bad weather.

Total silence.

Nothing. Not even the chirp of a bird or a sound of a far off plane.

Just me and my Dad and my tears and his tall form, alone. This time, nothing stopped the tears from becoming sobs as they raced through my body, threatening to send me to the ground. My breath coming out in short gasps, as my chest suddenly felt tighter threatening to choke me.

That's when my Dad's arms came around me, holding me tighter into his chest, while whispering soothing words that did nothing and everything.

Why was the world so cruel to take her from me? And why wasn't everyone crying, why hadn't they stopped and looked? Why didn't they stop their lives for her? Why couldn't they at least know that one more child was without her parent and it was total and complete agony? To wake up every morning without her in the world to help and advise her how was she supposed to go on?

Another heaving, gut-wrenching, flash of pain went through me.

My mother wasn't coming back. Why couldn't she come back?

Couldn't I live in a Disney movie where everyone lived happily ever after and I was a princess and my parents were alive? I'd even forgo the prince if my mum would just be here one last time, to hold me, and tell me everything would be alright even if it wouldn't be.

We stayed like that for hours, letting the cold evening air chill our bones and nip at our faces.

Numb, I was numb.

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


	3. Dinosaur At My Door

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age: 24**_

_Ding-ding-ding-ding. Ding-ding-ding-ding. Ding-ding-ding-ding._

I muttered a curse though my teeth, dragging myself out of the warm, comfy bed and down the stairs, blearily rubbing my eyes. I loved my bed, almost as much as my art, why did some idiot have to ring the doorbell and have to force me away from it.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." I grabbed my jumper, pulling it over my head, quickly running my hand through my hair to make it look less of a bird's nest and more of a _I had a great time last night and I don't care what you think._

What I did see when I opened the door made me re-evaluate my friendship with Jace.

There, standing on the doorstep was my best friend dressed in a huge dinosaur onesie. "Whoa. What the-?"

He pushed back the dinosaur head, letting me see his face, as if I needed confirmation that it was him, the very fact that he would be the only one crazy enough to arrive on my doorstep dressed like that should be enough. "Clary," he leaned against the doorframe, "Clary. Have you got any food? I'm starving."

I blinked, not having really gotten over that _he was here_ and _dressed like that_. "What…?"

"Thanks." He pushed past me and I noticed the green tail much too late as he knocked off my pile of CD's from my table. He turned back to me and shot me an apologetic look before turning back into the house, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

I closed the door softly, not comprehending what was happening. Jace was in my house dressed as a dinosaur and was right now in my kitchen eating his usual jam, crisps, chocolate and vinegar sandwich. Why was Jace in my house like this? Sure, I'd got used to his weird antics and sarcastic manner, but he was in my house and pretending to be a green reptile no less.

"Jace why are you," I eyed his outfit. "Dressed like that?"

He turned around; knocking over the jar of peanut butter he had out. "Well, you see-"

"Jace, finish your food before you start talking, you don't know how disgusting it is. It's too early." I sank down into my chair. _Much _too early.

Jace swallowed, and then started to talk again. "Well, you see. Izzy was having a party. And she said it was fancy dress, so obviously I got my best outfit out."

He gestured down at himself, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his face. I sniggered; I think I knew where this was going. Fancy dress, this had Jace written all over it. Even if I didn't class him as the stupid type.

He scowled at me. "Anyway, I got to the party, all dressed up in my grand attire and when I swaggered in everyone started laughing. I guess they didn't actually mean _fancy dress _when they put it on the invitation."

"What are you again? Nine?"

He grinned. "No, I'm a dinosaur."

"Jace-"

"What? I am."

"You're twenty four, and when someone invites you to a party, you dress up as a prehistoric animal?"

He placed a hand over his chest, acting wounded. "How could you be so mean, I thought we were friends."

Sometimes, he could be the most annoying person in the world. "Jace."

He turned away, holding a hand up. "Don't try to speak to me Clary. You just broke years of trust in just a few seconds. How will I ever get that back, that trust, Clary?"

Maybe I should take away that movie subscription he'd bought; he's been watching way too many chick-flicks for his own good to actually believe anything he's been saying, but this is Jace; he doesn't believe half the stuff that comes out of his mouth. Still, he must have been watching too many soppy romances to come up with any of these. "Maybe, you could… I don't know. Go and change into something normal?"

"No, Clary, it will never be repaired." He stopped, just realizing what I had said. "Emm, oh yeah. Right. Change clothes. Yes. I'll get onto that."

I let out a laugh. "Some of Sebastian's clothes are upstairs. You can borrow some of them."

Jace, who was at the door stopped and turned around slightly. "Your brother Sebastian or Verlac?"

"I can't believe you think as low of me as to go out with _Seb, _he's a friend, like you. They're my brothers."

Jace straightened up, shot me a beaming smile and then headed up the narrow staircase. Making sure to knock every one of my pictures on the way, it wasn't like he already hadn't ruined the rest of my house; why not just kill a few of my pictures as well.

"Jace!" But all I could hear was his laughter and the sound of the wooden frames hitting the carpet. "You're lucky that I haven't put glass in them yet!"

"Why haven't you anyway? You've been here for ages."

I stuck his empty plate in the sink, then picked up all the stuff he'd managed to bump into through the hall. "I've been busy… doing other… stuff."

"You don't sound too sure about that Clary."

James' smiling face flashed once in my mind before it disappeared, and that warm fuzzy feeling I got whenever I thought of him came back. "Would you want an in depth description of what I've been doing by the hour?"

Jace's voice was right behind me. "Only if it's worth listening to and something I would find interesting. And when I say interesting, I don't need to know what you and that boyfriend of yours have been up to."

I bumped his shoulder playfully. "He likes you too, even after you made him run halfway across the city because he thought he'd gone to the wrong place."

A chuckle. "Your the one who went out with a guy that would look up if you told him something was on the ceiling."

"I was having a nice evening till you came and decided that it was a good idea to make sure we never got to the date we had planned in the first place."

"Isn't that what I'm here for, to grace your life with my presence?"

"Shut up."

This time, he laughed.

_**Thanks for the favorites, reviews and follows.**_

_**You like?**_

_**Snow.**_


	4. A Doggy Dilemma

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age: 21**_

"Clary, why are you licking my nose?"

"Jace, I'm not doing anything to your nose."

"Then why do I feel something on my face, doing the thing that you say you aren't?"

I giggled. "Open your eyes."

He did and came face to face with my new dog. A cute dog at that.

"What the- Clary why the fuck is there a weasel in my face?" He swing at it with his hand, hastily moving backwards, as if it was infected my some kind of life-threatening virus and not a cute, fluffy, furry animal that was really cute, that wasn't infected by anything at all… I think.

"Don't call it that." I pulled it to my chest, stopping Jace's advances of the poor animal. "It hasn't done anything to you."

"Ha! You called the weasel and 'it' – and it licked my face." He pointed to shining trail of dog slobber.

Scowling I placed her down, gently nudging her to go outside. "The 'weasel' has a name, Punzie."

"Punzie! Where did you get that, a Disney movie?"

I shrugged but turned my back from him, "I've been reading the Grimm Brother's fairytales."

He made a sound, half-way between an amused snort and the sound a cat makes when its tail had been stepped on, usually by Jace. "I'm sticking with Disney, I know you're addicted. You hardly have any time for me because you're watching them."

I ignored the comment about himself, it was the only way that you avoided his ego growing. "Nope, defiantly been reading those fairytales, this is a Disney free zone, no DCD's, soundtracks or dresses can be found here." A nervous chuckle escaped my lips and I knew I'd blow my chance of him letting this one go.

"You bought a dress didn't you, I told you there just-"

"That isn't the point. I just think it's a nice name, doesn't matter if I got it from an animated film for children."

He smirked, folding his arms in front of his chest. "So you _did _take it from them."

"I never said that, I said 'if.'" I rolled my eyes.

"The context you said it in implies that yes; you did take it from a movie and a just using that book to cover it up."

"Since when did you say context? Or implies?"

He gasped in disbelief, "since always."

Snorting, I started to scoop Punzie's food into a bowl. He shifted into sight, leaning his body weight against the small island in the middle of the kitchen, a lazy grin across his face.

"You never said you hadn't chosen it."

"But-"

"Shhh," he placed a finger on my lips to stop me. "Your secret is safe with mwah."

I jerked away and continued piling in more food than a shiatsu should really eat, or any dog really.

"What am I going to do with you?"

And then the best idea I have had in a long time entered my thoughts, Jace wouldn't mind. It wasn't like he called Punzie a weasel or tried to strangle her or anything. It was just for a few hours, they'll be fine. "Well…"

* * *

"I can't believe I agreed to this." Jace was muttering again, ever since he had said yes his face had been permanently stuck into one of intense distaste, as for myself, I was positively glowing.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." I jumped up and down in excitement, I had been waiting to see this film for such a long time, and now – thanks to my best friend – I could.

"You owe me." He mumbled.

I punched his arm, in a friendly way. "Come on Jace, it's just for 160 minutes then I'll be home and you can do whatever you want. Anyway you agreed."

He huffed, and shot a wary glace back at the house. "Right."

"You'll be fine. You're great with dogs."

"You've never seen with me with a dog." He pointed out, one eyebrow raised. Once I'd tried to get him to teach me, it didn't end so well…

"Well… that was- wait no. Emm, that time, no that was Isabelle. Ehhh… Ah, whatever. I _know _you're great with animals. That snake you had, brilliant."

"It died after a week."

I nodded, and patted his arm with my hand, showing the sympathy that he should receive.

"Nagini was such a good snake."

He didn't. He couldn't have. Why would he. _The bastard. _"So you named your snake after the one in Harry Potter and you tell me off for naming mine after a Disney character."

He turned away, suddenly interested in the cracks on the pavement. "I was going through a phase."

I sighed, not really that bothered about it anymore. I just really wanted to go to that movie. "Anyway, I have to go, like, now, if I want to get there in time-"

"For the adverts?"

"-for the film."

Jace checked his watch. "Your already twenty minutes early…"

"Don't wreak my house, don't kill my dog, and don't ruin my stuff. Any of it." I pointed at him, using my best glare to enforce my words. If he ended up touching anything, and then breaking it, I would personally slit his throat and follow the guide I printed off on how to get away with a murder. I think it said something about cutting him into pieces and burying him under a dead animal.

He gave me an exasperate look, "I won't, it's not like I'd get anything out of it."

I nodded once then turned away, while he went back inside my house. I just managed to catch the words: 'Alright weasel, let's have some fun.' – before he closed the door.

Suddenly, the idea of leaving Jace alone with Punzie was a lot less appealing than before.

* * *

As it was, the movie was epic and I had just bought the soundtrack on my phone, even if I didn't know half the songs that were played.

What wasn't good was that my house was in ruins and Punzie was nowhere to be seen. The kids playing on the street had said something about Jace calling her a 'little shit' and then chasing her into the woods but since then, they hadn't seen her.

I sighed as I looked at the damage he had caused, a vase had been knocked over, something that looked suspiciously like blood was staining the carpet and the kitchen had been turned over in a search for something to eat. The only thing that seemed to have been eaten was the dog food, leaving the empty packet lying on the tile floor.

When Jace got back, he was going to pay, not just in money but in 'I OWE U's.'

The only thing that was good was that the living room had remained untouched, the image of Voldemort's snake on screen.

I guess some things never die.

_**Thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows.**_

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


	5. The Band Of Terror

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_***This fanfic uses the English education system (since it's the only one I know that I feel confident in). Which means that when they enter High School as Year 7 (6**__**th**__** Grade) when they are twelve years old, and they were ten in Year 5 (4**__**th**__** Grade).**_

_**Age: 12**_

She'd cornered me when I was at my weakest, just before lunch and after three tiring lessons and an argument with my best friend. I was emotionally drained, miserable and hungry but by the looks the rest of my group were giving me, and the death glare that Isabelle had been sending my way ever since the end of French I wouldn't be sitting there if my life depended on it. Well that would be a stretch but Isabelle can be unforgiving sometimes.

Which left me to cautiously head towards the table that was only reserved for the people that everyone found annoying, but didn't actually tell them and baited them with jokes instead, one girl claimed she was a witch, another worshipped some kind of God (which would have been fine, had she not cut off all her hair, got bright neon contacts and started cursing people when they looked at her wrong), the last one on the table was some guy nobody knew the name off but had suddenly appeared one day unannounced and had made their home in amongst the cursed table. To say I was dreading heading over there was an overstatement.

Having my music teacher stop me in my tracks, with the delicious scent of fish and chips wafting through my nostrils and the death glares of my ex-friends, was something that I needed, and didn't at the same time.

"Clary." Miss Penhallow walked forward, holding a clip board that was positively overflowing with a dozen different sheets that couldn't be contained by the clip (a rusty one at that) that was holding it.

"Ehh," I looked over to where I was heading, and then back to my teacher. "Yes?"

She cleared her throat, "I've heard you play an instrument. Am I correct?"

I nodded slowly, "the flute."

"And, as the music teacher, I am in charge of the orchestra, which means that you are invited to come and play with us. It's every Wednesday at 12:30, which means that you are just in time to come and see the other students. Come."

With that she walked off, her black hair swishing behind her as I hastily followed, food and cup in hand. I didn't have anywhere to put it _and _I'd paid for it and even if it was my mother's money I wasn't going to let that go to waste or good food – because, surprise, out school actually has good food (I know, it's a miracle).

The distant sound of out of sync and out of tune instruments became more audible as we headed towards the music room. I cringed slightly as one of the violins let out an especially screechy note accompanied by the offbeat clash of a cymbal. This club was going to be the death of me, not saying that I was any better, but at least I knew how to hit the correct notes without inducing pain to any one listening.

Miss Penhallow opened the heavy door and the sound got worse, obviously I'd underestimated the soundproofing on the door because if it was loud outside it was positively torturous when you were exposed to the full ensemble. The strings sat in one corner, some managing to capture the melody perfectly while the others drowned them out with their off key notes and the doggy fourth fingers. The brass sat next to them, a mix of trumpets and trombones, trying to play a marching song as a warm up but none of them seemed to be in time with each other, as soon as one had finished part A, the other would have jumped a few notes and leaped onto part B. The woodwind seemed to be more organised, but only just. The flutes all sat neatly in lines but none seemed to be doing anything, rather just talking among themselves and pointing at random people and laughing. No wonder half the people in the room were glaring at them, the clarinets were the exact opposite, moving around, knocking into each other and shouting at the top of their voice to try and be heard above the noise. Finally the Percussion instruments had spread out among everyone, the drums next to the string, the triangles dotted in amongst the crowds and the cymbals skipping around happily banging them together in front of people to make them jump.

It was total chaos, and that's when the guitars came in, including one person I hadn't seen in two years. Jace. As he saw a smug grin appeared and he said something to the two people who were standing next to him. Alec, the one that I'd heard Magnus call the 'One With The Blue Eyes' and Jordan, the one that Maia called annoying and insolent, then started to head over in my direction.

"Do you have your flute with you?" Miss Penhallow asked, completely ignoring the fact that someone had tripped and had almost taken out the inside of one of the drums.

"Ehhh," I did have it, in my locker, but due to the sight in front of me I could have forgot my keys? Yeah, I forgot the keys that were sitting in my bag right now. "No."

Miss Penhallow shrugged and told me to find a seat; I was to watch what they were doing today.

It was when she left that Jace came over, his guitar case in hand. "So, you got dragged into this too?"

I nodded, the last time I had seen him was when I was ten and still in Primary School. It hadn't ended well, so much so I was glad I didn't have to speak to him afterwards. That was the problem of not going to the same School but now… How could I not have noticed he was in my year? Maybe because we hadn't been but into sets yet and had stuck to staying in my forms.

"Sucks doesn't it, I thought we wouldn't have to see you again for at least a few more months." He grinned at me. Then his voice got quieter, "I'm glad to see you again."

Somewhere, someone crashed the cymbals together again, and another note was emitted by the violins that would haunt me for life. "Me too."

He smiled one more time before taking out his guitar and twiddled with the tuning a bit before deciding it was satisfactory. "You got out of this mess this time but don't you worry Morgenstern, if I have to come here, so do you."

"Idiot." I called back at him and I could tell he was smiling. Turns out the band wasn't all that bad, but what I was really listening for was Jace's guitar and I can say that his playing was the best I had heard in a long time. Not that I had much to go on, my brother Sebastian sucked at guitar but still, it's the thought that counts.

I even got to eat my food in time for the bell.

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


	6. Hunter and Hare

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age: 9**_

We were sitting next to each other, back against the muddy earth we had been running over hours before, but Jace had insisted he was to show me something and it _had _to be at night and on a clear one as well. So, in order to get ahead he pushed me down next to him three hours before the sun even started to go down. I didn't mind, the sky was painted in vivid colours, ones that I wanted to paint with. From the airiest blue, to the red that looked like blood had been spilled across the sky and right now – royal blue, the kind you couldn't replicate but rather sat in awe and watched. I don't think Jace was all that bothered – he hadn't said anything that strung together into a sentence that was more than five words – he was sitting and waiting. This must be really important if he's sat here for this long, normally after ten minutes Jace starts to move. It's the most annoying thing when I try to get him to watch a movie.

His talents lied in physical activity, he could run forever and was able to play football with boys three years older than him, and he even said he wanted to start fencing when he was older. Something about the prospect of jabbing people with a blunt object appealed to him. While I was good at drawing, not like my mum, her pieces were brilliant, I wasn't amazing. Although Jace said they were the best he had seen when I showed him them, to which I would smile and almost believe him since he had never seen Helens work. That was the problem with going to different schools but it was also good, I had heard from Izzy that her brother didn't talk to her when they were in school and since Jace was Alec's age he would do the same if we went to the same school and I didn't want that. Jace was my best friend.

"Clary, the stars are coming out." Jace's voice was soft, not loud like I was used to and his light touch near my hand was gentle and not the usual tight grip that was reserved for when he wanted me to go somewhere with him.

I looked to where his other hand was pointing, up at the sky, and realised what he was so amazed at. While I had seen stars before, I had never gone out of my way to see them, not really, but now, on this night, when the sky was clear I could see everything. All the dots that formed shapes and the ones that seemed brighter than the others around them, some even seemed to be different colours, glimmering green and red and blue and yellow, shining brightly.

Jace started speaking again, his arm back by his side now, and I turned my head to look at him but only saw the shadows on his face and his jaw moving. "Robert told me once that the stars we're seeing now are thousands years old and that the light from them takes forever to get here. When I asked him why the light took that long he just laughed but imagine that Clary. We're looking into the past right now."

I looked back at the sky again; these were really that old… I guess we really were looking at history.

"He also told me that that one," his arm came up again, "is called Orion and that one," his arm moved, "is called Cassiopeia, he said it was named after a queen."

"So what's Orion named after?" I asked, I wanted to fill in the silence and Jace seemed to want to talk about these things. He obviously enjoyed it, and it was something we could do together since I couldn't okay a sport to save myself and he sucked at drawing. He couldn't even draw a good stick-figure.

He was silent for a moment, "it was named after a hunter, it always hunts Lepus, which means hare, Canis Major and Canis Minor are also after Lepus. They're the hunters hunting dogs." He pointed at the constellation next to it, and then two more as he spoke their names.

I always thought the sky wasn't complicated, it was just _the sky, _it changed with the time, had some clouds, rained a bit and then grew dark. Why did it have to have history to? "It would make sense that a hunter would have _hunting dogs, _but after a rabbit?"

"It's a hare."

I spared a second to glare at his shadow, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. "But why?"

I felt him shrug, "why not?"

I guess he had a point, but why would you chase something as small as a hare across the sky for well, until you burned about? I had read that somewhere, that stars burn out and die and that the sun was one. For a moment when I read that I had panicked (would the sun suddenly explode?) but then it said it wouldn't happen for a couple more million years, so unless Henry managed to create that immortality thing he was always going on about it wouldn't be a problem.

"Anyway, it's not as bad as being the hare is it?" He said when he didn't get an answer.

I was going to reply that no, it wasn't as bad when Maryse opened the door and called for us to come in otherwise 'we would catch our deaths.' I shrugged and got up, closely followed by Jace. My mum was at the door, waiting to pick me up and before I left I gave Jace one last hug.

That night when I went to sleep I dreamt of running across the sky, just running, after something that would never be caught. It was kind of fun, but really sad as well. I didn't even have Jace by my side, he was across from me and since we both ran, neither of us got any closer.

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_**Snow.**_


	7. All Because Of Jonathan

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_***16 is when High School ends, so that makes that both Clary and Jace are in Collage. **_

_**Age: 17 **_

"You need to kiss me."

"Why would I kiss you?"

"It's not like we haven't kissed before, is it?"

"But that was when we were young and hadn't been kissed."

"How is this any different?"

"Because we've both been kissed by other people at this point-"

"Jace, just kiss me and I'll go buy that TV box set you've been drooling over for ages."

"Sure thing Clary, sure thing."

* * *

What the-? Why had-? Uhhh. I think to understand why we had to kiss, because I don't make a habit of randomly asking my best friends to kiss me in public, you need to know why I asked him to kiss me. Seriously, you're all probably thinking I had some sort of crush on him. I don't, full stop, the end, stick a pin in it, the end of the line, there's nothing there. Now, since we've got over that, let's go back to the beginning.

* * *

_**One Hour Earlier**_

Having a guy walking around two out of the three shops you've been in is fine, it wasn't like they were in the same order – I went into one shop and he was there, I went into another and he wasn't and then I went into the last one and he was. What was my problem was that it was Jonathan, the really creepy muscled boy, with white-blond hair and eyes that had been compared to coals more times than you could count that everyone was afraid off and didn't want to get too close for fear of being stabbed and that whenever I was in the same store as him he stared at me. Not in the casual passer-by way, where you would awkwardly make eye contact and then look away because it was a total stranger they had practically had a conversation with (because eye contact was a miracle to get from any British person), but full on staring. His eyes wouldn't leave me for the whole time I was in the same place as him, and when I moved upstairs, he took the lift to make it seem like he wasn't following me but when he resumed his _looking _it was obvious that he had taken the lift to follow me.

Which was why I came to the conclusion that I had to lose him, and that in the second shop he'd just been lost in the crowds because it was a sale, you could lose an elephant in the stampede and crush of bodies when the red sign goes up saying that there's up to 70% off everything.

And what was the most effective way of losing Jonathan, to pretend to have a boyfriend that was super tall and could knock him out with a single punch, or at least, take him out.

But it seemed, as I looked around, that today, every guy that was capable of such a thing had been replaced by scrawny little twigs. How come, every other day, I had to squeeze past a guy that was at least four times my size at least four times, and today they were all smaller than me. I was 5', I didn't play any sport and spent most of my time in my room painting, it shouldn't be hard to weigh more than me but these guys, they all looked like they should be on TV for some program on children that were starving in a different country. That wouldn't do, at all.

I shot at look back to see if Jonathan was still there and as sure as the day rises he was looked over a magazine he had taken off the shelves. It had Bob the Builder on the cover.

I turned around and headed out the store and saw out the corner of my eye Jonathan scrunching up Bob and shoving him back on the stands. I gulped a bit, then took out my phone, scrolling through my contacts to see if anyone could get to town in the next ten minutes that could suitably stand up to Jonathan.

_Sebastian: Away at a game._

_Jordan: On a gaming date with his girlfriend_

_Isabelle: Said she was teaching something to Simon_

_Bat: On holiday_

Which left…

Jace…

Sure, he worked out but against Jonathan? That was like comparing a bear against a dog, the bear would obviously win, and the Labrador with the adorable eyes would most surely lose. Oh well, it wasn't like Jonathan would do anything to Jace in public, and he wasn't so mad as to follow me home…

I took out my phone and called the number.

* * *

Jace was exactly where he said he would be, all I needed to do now was employ my plan. "You need to kiss me."

Jace spluttered coffee all over the floor, and then looked at me like I'd gone mad. "Why would I kiss you?"

I sighed, but took away his cup and set it on the table next to us, but I made sure no one was sitting there first; it wasn't like I was going to kiss Jace if it was right in front of someone, but I am still going to kiss him. For a purpose of course, I didn't just kiss my best friend for anything. "It's not like we haven't kissed before, is it?"

"But that was when we were young and hadn't been kissed." Could he have made that sentence any more similar to a song lyric?

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "How is this any different?"

He coughed a little, still staring at me with that disbelieving face. "Because we've both been kissed by other people at this point-"

"Jace," he stopped and looked at me, "just kiss me and I'll go buy that TV box set you've been drooling over for ages."

His slack jaw turned into a grin, "sure thing Clary, sure thing."

He titled his head so that it angled towards mine, cupped his hand so that it rested on my cheek and leant forward, touching his lips to mine.

Kissing your best friend was different… instead of the heated, desperate, passionate kiss I had become accustomed to; it was more like dipping your foot into lukewarm water. It made you feel safe, comforted, at home. Kissing Jace was like being a home.

I didn't notice when Jonathan stormed away.

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_**Snow.**_


	8. Ribena Stains and Killer Trolleys

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Not my best chapter but… I don't know how else to put it. **_

_**Age: 12**_

I'd hit that age where I never, ever, wanted to go outside – ever. I sat in my room all day, with books piled precariously on one side of me, with my music blaring solid rock bands, with the TV on mute playing some comedy while on my laptop trying to beat my high score on the game I had been obsessed with for weeks which the half dozen friends called the shittist crap they had ever seen in their bloody lives.

Ok, so maybe on Isabelle said that, but the others might as well have told me the same thing. Aline said it was unhealthy to play a game that long, Alec said that he'd seen better graphics on an LG, Magnus hadn't even tried to hide his distaste by trying to block the page with his hacking skills, Jordan had gone as far as to buy me a whole new game to fawn over which was right now living under my bed and Helen hadn't offered up anything at all. Everybody else, was like me, stuck in their rooms, watching TV, listening to music and playing games but had decided that even texting someone would be classed as talking and had blocked everybody while they wrote new chapters for their successful fanfiction and posted something on a social media site they were famous on.

So when my mum came in and opened the curtains (prompting a cloud of dust to billow up into the room and giving us both mini coughing fits) I hissed and tried to hide under the covers I hadn't left in twelve hours. She told me that if I didn't get up in the next thirty minutes then she would just drag me to town like I was. Now, I love my pyjamas, there so comfy and have such adorable animals on – take the cartoon elephant or the giraffe that's not drawn in the lines, but I do not want everyone to see them, there to cute to be subjected to the terrors of outside. Which was why, exactly thirty-one minutes later I was downstairs, showered, dressed with my headphone stuck in one ear and on my phone complaining to my unsympathetic friends (who responded with such blatant sarcasm even I could tell they were being sarcastic in a text) that my mum was a witch and had forced me outside the comfort of my room into the big bad world.

As my luck would have it, my mum took me to the biggest store in the world – I had to tilt my head right up to even see the top – and then told me I could do whatever I liked as long as I stayed inside the store. On closer inspection (because we had to park streets away) I realised they even had revolving doors, what kind of shop had revolving doors and carpets when you walk in. Any shop should know that having a carpet on the floor, and one as white as this specific one, just begged for someone to spill something on it – preferably something that would stain. The sudden craving for Ribena had nothing to do with me being thirsty.

This chain of events lead to me wandering around in the darkest places I could find, with both my headphones plugged in and the music being so loud I think I got looks from half the people there since the artist I was listening to swore at every other word.

This also lead to me not being able to hear the assistant as they tried to shout at me to get out the way because a rogue trolley had been let loose and was now heading straight towards me. To say I was surprised when something hard, cold and very fast rammed into my back was an understatement. I fell to the floor in a daze, but somehow with both headphones still in my ears (though it has stopped playing music), staring at the coffee stain that had somehow made it onto the ceiling.

I wasn't down even a few seconds before a huge crowd was around me asking if I was alright and with half of them offering to take me to a spare seat and the other half asking someone else if they should call someone.

It ended in me getting up, spitting out an 'I'm fine' and then resuming my rounds around the clothing section, or at least that was what was meant to happen. I got up to the spitting part when I turned around and managed to be knocked over again, but this time with a s_omeone_ rather than a _something_.

I got up, fuming. I actually hate this store, revolving doors and stainable carpet be damned, I am never coming back here again unless I'm carrying gasoline, a lighter match and Ribena. "Why can't everyone just-" I stopped, realising who it was, "Jace."

Jace was rubbing where his forehead where we head crashed into each other. He offered a small smile and thumbs up, and then resumed pouting because being crashed into your small pixie sized friend was that painful. I'd had hugs from this guy and I can tell you, I feel like one of my ribs was going to break if he had hugged me any tighter.

"Why are you here?" If Jace and I were in any way similar, it was our hate for anything to do with what was outside our house. Actually, I now knew a way of beating level 132 on that game; I would have to write that down somewhere before I forgot…

Jace muttered something, and then slowly got to his feet. He started to hobble away, hand still on forehead. It can't have been that bad, I'm perfectly fine.

"What was that?"

He spoke up louder this time, and I could just about hear him. "Maryse dragged me here, then I got attacked by some metal thing and after that, you."

Oh, so that was why, he'd been part of the trolley apocalypse. I should have known we would have been some of the first victims – myself with my sharp wit and stunning abilities with pen and paper, and Jace with his good looks and… that was it.

"Sounds fun." I matched my pace to walk alongside him, adding a little bounce into my step to show that I hadn't been affected by anything, even the killer 'metal thing' that had attacked me.

I guess it must have got too much for him, after all, after the skipping I went to running around him in circles, because the next thing I knew was that Jace was being sick in the fountain next to me, and I had only been mere inches from being covered in his last meal, which, from the smell, was some kind of fast food.

Yep, defiantly only coming back here to burn the place to the ground, not even the complementary bag of truffles they gave me on the way out could change my mind. In fact, that night they helped me concentrate a great deal, getting me to level 155 and score five more followers on that social media site my friends belonged to.

I can't say the same about Jace though, I don't think he even ate his; they were crushed by the time he got home. On the plus side, he wrote the whole plan to burn the place to the ground.

_**Fear not **__Liliumconvallium, __**all question about Jonathan will be explained. I just have to write that chapter first.**_

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**If anyone had seen **__Frozen, __**I just wrote a one-shot for that so if you would read that it would be cool.**_

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


	9. And That's A Rounder

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age: 20**_

Nothing screams friendly like almost knocking someone out with a rounder's ball, in fact, the dizziness, headache and large bruise were only plus points to add to the already mounting pain that came with the offer of friendship. Like I said, nothing says it better than hitting you with a speeding object that you've been best friends for years and aren't willing to give that up for anything. Well, that was my interpretation of it anyway, I don't think Jace intended for me to be hit, but by the smirk on his face, he was taking at least some pleasure in my disorientation. This automatically put him back on _that bastard _status is anyone asked who he was to me, no one did ask since they automatically assumed we were going out, but just in case.

"Hey Clary, didn't see you there." Of course he wouldn't, not even if when he did hit it, the first place he looked was over to where I was sitting, or as I had been – lying face down on the sand wondering how I had got there in the first place. That tended to happen when you're hit with something hard. Take when I was three and Sebastian came up behind me and hit me with one of the cups that were lying around. Next thing I knew I was one the floor.

I tried to give him my best sarcastic smile, but it totally and utterly failed as it ended up more like a grimace of pain. What ever happened to using tennis balls or sponge balls but no, he had to go and pick the one that would deal the most damage if it knocked someone around the back of the head. If I hadn't know that his aim was complete and utter shit, I would say he'd done it one purpose.

He patted my head with a fake look of sympathy, letting out a quiet _aww _as he knocked the developing bruise and caused me to hiss in pain.

"Did the big bad flying object hit poor small Clary on the back of her tiny head?" He asked to no one in particular, and since I was shovelling around my bag to find the ice packs I couldn't snap anything at him and since the world seemed to be spinning I couldn't try and tackle him either.

"Shut up, Jace." I managed through gritted teeth, still struggling to find what I was looking for. I'm sure magic doesn't exist, but this bag was giving me second thoughts – I'd managed to fit my whole arm in without touching the bottom, or maybe I had and just hadn't noticed because of the droning in my ears.

"-didn't mean to hit you, you just happened to be in the way of the ball. It wasn't _my _fault-" (It was.) "-that you'd chosen to sit right where the ball was going to go-" His words were exactly that, droning.

My hand touched something cool and slick and covered in perspiration and I let out a little whoop which I immediately regretted. "I said," I turned on Jace, "shut the fuck up."

He raised a hand to correct me, "actually you said shut up not with the fuck in there."

My hands clenched around the pack as I brought it up to my injury, at least now I had an acceptable excuse to lie in bed all day and watch sad chick-flicks. "I don't give a fuck, now got out the way otherwise I'm pour orange juice all over you."

"Oh my God, orange juice, run for your life," he waved his hands slightly to go along with his dead tone and his mocking words.

I narrowed my eyes, using on hand to grab the bottle that was (thankfully) within reach and not lying at the bottom of the endless-bag. "You know they said there were a lot more wasps hanging around lately, I wonder what would happen if they saw you with this," I squirted a little in his direction for extra effect, "all over you."

His face would have looked great in one of those gifs that people made, it went from a knowing smirk to one of outright horror, his face creased unnaturally for someone as good looking as him (not that I would ever tell him that) so that it looked like it had been hit with a frying pan.

"You wouldn't dar-" He started but I cut him off.

"Oh, I would." The bottle in my hand moved closer to him, a trickle of the juice collecting around the rim. "Now, take your bloody ball and go back to playing your bloody game. And if I ever see that _thing _ever again in my glorious existence, you will pay, whether it's in winter or summer, you must know that the bugs are _always _watching."

Jace let out a nervous chuckle before looking around him in worry, looking for the vile instrument that had me threatening him with an old sports bottle.

That was when we both looked up to the umbrella that was protecting me from the sun. The material, once whole and bursting with vibrant colours was now sporting a rather large rounder's ball sized hole in the fabric. So it mustn't have hit my full on, but more rather clipped my head then gone on to ruin my brand new umbrella. I'm sure I heard Jace gulp; literally gulp when I slowly moved my smouldering eyes away from the tear.

He instantly started to get up and back away. "C'mon Clary, I can always buy you a new one. It can't have been that expensive, you got it from PoundLand for God's sake."

He started running until I hit the ground. Shit – I'd forgot I wasn't steady on my feet. Oh God, the dizziness is coming back, and… why were there three Jace's standing in front on me? Huh?

They all leant down at once and picked me up, but it was weird, I only felt one pair of hands when I was sure there were three on them. I blinked a couple of times, trying to clear my head, and then everything slowly returned to normal. There was only one Jace, an ice-pack (which I made dropped unknowingly when I went after him) was on the back of my head and half his friends were shouting something at him which sounded suspiciously like 'just tell her already'. Though what they wanted him to tell me was beyond coherent thought right now, maybe later when I felt like someone had climbed into my skull and was pounding the side of it.

No matter, all I wanted to do now was sleep. And so I closed my eyes and snuggled up to Jace who seemed to have managed to be stuck in a position where his legs were under his rather uncomfortably.

"Clary."

He was going to complain, I just knew it, but I wasn't having any of it. I lazily reached up and hand and – after poking him in the eye a few times (which he did not take well) – I finally found his mouth to stop him speaking. "Shhh. I'm sleeping."

His laugh was the last thing I heard before I fell into the welcoming darkness of sleep.

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_**Snow.**_


	10. Movieverse Vs Bookverse Vs A Kiss

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age: 15**_

I threw another book across my room, a string of curses following its flight into the wall.

Jace looked up from his magazine, a low whistle making it past his lips. "What did they do this time?"

I sniffed, glaring at the offending paper bound together in the beautiful cover. What can I say; I'm a sucker for amazing book covers even when I know it would end up on my 'to burn' pile. "She chose the wrong guy."

Jace rolled his eyes and resumed reading, flicking the next page over when he got bored. "They always chose the wrong guy in your opinion." He was bored of having the conversation every time I picked a book up, mostly because the main character was always dumb, the love interest was abusive and there wasn't a damn plot to hold any of it together other than their 'love.'

"Not my fault authors can't write love for shit – it's always _her _tripping over the hot guy, forgetting _her _name when _he _kisses her. What I would give to have a normal love story like- like- us, for example."

Jace's head jerked up faster than I thought possible, if I hadn't been serious about what I was talking about I would have taken a picture, his eyes were wide, almost popping out of his skull and his normally tanned skin could match that of Casper the ghost. "U- Us?" He managed to stutter out.

I shrugged, "sure. I mean, we've been friends forever and everybody thinks we are together. Eventually we would get together – that is, if this was a movie, because that sure as Hell wouldn't happen in a book. You would be some hot guy who loved his swords a bit too much and had an abusive past and I would be the girl who was magically thrown into your world after her mum was kidnapped."

Jace let out a chuckle, but he still wasn't back to normal. I continued anyway, "yeah, and then it would be my birthday and you would take me to see something and we would kiss, well, you would kiss me, and then something would happen to stop out relationship developing. Like us being siblings or something.

"And then something stuff would happen, my dad would actually be evil, but then he would die and we wouldn't actually be siblings and my actual brother would have kissed me but he would be dead and… yeah. It would be all passionate kissing and back-alley kissing – oh, and it would be in America but you would have an English accent." I nodded to myself, satisfied that I had everything covered.

"And that would be a book?" Jace asked, probably in shock.

I nodded, picking up the next book and reading the blurb before scrunching up my nose and starting it anyway. "But if it was a movie, we would be friends, but then we would be separated by you moving, and then you would come back for me but I would have a boyfriend and you would be jealous and shit would happen. It would end with us together though."

He nodded a few times, regaining some colour in his cheeks, though it was more red then his natural completion. He was silent for a few minutes while I suffered through a long and agonizing prologue detailing into circumstances of the post-apocalyptic world the girl was living in. As far as I could see it, she was doing fine, but apparently she'd left her boyfriend somewhere… Could this plot line become anymore useless?

"Clary…" Jace was finally speaking; I put the book down in relief only to find his face far too close to mine for comfort. I let out a squeal, and the book went flying into the wall. Well, guess I won't be finishing that one either.

"Yes?" I tried not to look him in the eye; because I was sure those honey irises of his would trap me and make me say things I didn't want to say.

"Have you ever been kissed?" His face was even closer to mine, and even though there was at least a metre between us it still felt uncomfortable.

"Ehh. No?" It came out more a question then I intended it to. I hadn't been kissed, and I didn't plan on being kissed until I was sure whoever I was kissing wasn't a backstabbing bastard. I had trust issues.

Jace's face came even closer, 80cm, and closer, 60cm, and closer, 40cm, then he stopped. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

I replicated Jace's face from earlier, and probably his feelings to. Us, kiss? Where did that come from? I know I did go on about us a little too long then should be acceptable between friends but… us kissing? Well, I knew I could trust Jace – we had been friends for years – and I knew he wouldn't just abandon me and I knew this was probably the best option since I could safely say that my first kiss was with someone I loved (though it was purely platonic). "Um- Eh… Yes?" I came out like a question again.

30cm, 20cm, 10cm, and now I could feel his breath ghosting over my face. "You sure?"

I nodded, the action almost invisible it was that tiny. Jace took one more long look in my eyes before closing his own, and gently touching his lips to his.

My first instinct was to jerk back, to get away from the invading entity, but this was Jace and I could trust Jace. With Jace, everything was safe, happy, warm, inviting; I had no need to worry. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, until he pulled back and gave me a tight smile.

"You know… doesn't change anything… right?" Was the first thing he said, biting his lip nervously.

I didn't register the words for a few seconds, before rolling my eyes just like he had before and clapping him on the back. "Don't worry Jace, I don't think of you like that. It was just a kiss."

I looked back over to my pile of books, trying to pick one that wouldn't disappoint me. "What do you think I should pick?" I turned back to Jace, catching the end of… something, before his eyes changed and he smiled, coming to help me pick. I tried to forget what I had heard his say but it stuck in my head and resurfaced every time he sneaked a glance at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

'_It was just a kiss.'_

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_**And you guys are lucky, you got another kiss pronto.**_

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_**Snow.**_


	11. Teenage Turtle Meets 'Diddle Princess

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age:**_ _**19**_

"Jace, what are you wearing?"

He twirled around, the long black coat he was wearing flaring up around him "I'm Sirius."

I frowned a little, "so am I."

"No, really, I'm Sirius. As in, Harry Potter's uncle Sirius."

"I already knew that, I'm asking why the Hell you're wearing it. It's Halloween; you can't go out looking like the local drunk, especially when I'm with you." I raised an eyebrow – or tried to at least – at him.

"Glad to know you have so much respect for the man," he muttered before letting me into his house. He knew he wasn't going to escape the inevitable costume change, no matter how much glue it had taken to make sure that fake moustache stayed on right.

I began to tug him up the stairs, passing numerous family pictures of him and the Lightwoods, "not my fault he was a drunk and looked like it."

"When did it ever say he ever had a glass of alcohol?" He groaned, as his foot banged into the wooden side panelling, leaving a rather large scuff mark. Maryse would sure have his head for that.

"It didn't have too, you could tell by the clothes."

* * *

I clapped my hands excitedly together, looking out onto the empty street. "This is going to be the best Halloween ever!" Jace's answering grumble didn't do anything to deteriorate my excitement. It wasn't my fault the only costume he had left wasn't what he had wanted to wear; he was the one who had turned up looking like he had one to many pints at the local bar.

"Now, where can we start? Oh, how about Riders Lane, or Oaken Grange, maybe Capitol Street, Riddles Cross… or- or- that new street," I clicked my fingers trying to remember, "-Guard-As Avenue."

Jace came up behind me, hiding his face with one of his spare scarf's, I thought it looked silly, but he insisted. Honestly, I don't know what's so bad about being dressed up as Michelangelo; he even had his own Lego piece which was saying something. It was hard to get that turtle shell right in place on his back though, not that I would have any experience in that area…

"Whatever, lets' just get this over with." His voice came out muffled by all the extra layers covering his mouth. I honestly don't know why he did that, whenever I cover my mouth in winter eventually whatever was covering it would go all weird from my hot breaths coming into contact with it.

I gently slapped his chest; he should be enjoying this – soaking in the atmosphere, it was Halloween, he was dressed up as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and was about to get bucket-loads of sweets for all my hard work choosing the outfit.

The street was crowded with kids and their parents, all walking and talking and laughing. Even teenagers (who were famously unsociable) had come out for the occasion dressed in all black with a crazy hairstyle and face paint. The houses, though mostly bare, had at least made an effort this year, some had lights, and others actually had a gravestone outside in the garden. One that was especially made up this year had done the whole front of the house like on that was haunted completed with boarded up windows and a whole stack of pumpkins.

"Good turn out this year," I muttered, dragging Jace into the thick of the people all moving around towards the houses, some with bulging bags and others trying to hold onto the heaps of packets they had managed to get through.

"You say that every year," he managed to get out, still hiding. I was about to turn to his and demand he take off the ridiculous things but then a young girls voice came from behind me.

"Hey, what are you doing dressed up?" Turns out the voice belonged to a petite eight year old wearing a fairy costume. Her brown hair was even tied up in a bun under a crown to complete the look.

"What do you mean?" I butted it before Jace made her cry and made her run to her 'Mama' to complain about him. Thank God he had those scarf's so I wasn't associated with him.

The little girl stomped her foot, swinging her wand – which I noted made a sound when it was swung – at us. "I mean, you're old. Why are you dressed up? Mum and Dad won't get dressed up." And then the pout came but it looked more like there was something wrong with her face then adorable.

"We aren't that old." I deadpanned, kicking Jace in the shin because I just know something would have come out of that mouth that was nasty.

"Why are you hitting your boyfriend?"

While my jaw was hanging open Jace was looking astonished at the little girl, and I could tell he was trying to think of some witty retort but that none were coming to mind. I felt the same here which meant- "What?"

The girl snorted, a rather unpleasant sound that fit a pig, not that I was calling her a pig – I loved kids but really? Boyfriend?

"Yeah, boyfriend, why else would he get dressed up. Dad only does what Mum tells him to and last year when Mum told him to dress up as a ghost, he did." And the smug little smile that normally graced Jace's features was now on her own. If I didn't know better, I would say they were related, most defiantly related.

Jace had recovered and I did not have the will power to stop him now. "Wait, stop. Me and her, nope, never going to happen, ever. We're just friends, friends that are really good friends that are often mistaken for being together, so little girl, you won't be the first." God, I couldn't even tell drivel came out of his mouth, I don't even know what he was saying.

The girl seemed to think for a moment before suddenly smiling, "fine then. If you're such good friends you can kiss right, and she won't go red, right?"

Oh shit. A little girl, with enough brain power to figure that out was going to do great things, or not. Jace turned to me, a forced smile on his face. At some point the scarfs had gone off and I could now see his face, the strong jaw, the dancing eyes and the sharp angles of his face.

"Sure, we can." And he leaned forward and our lips brushed and my pulse quickened before we were cut off by laughter, girlish, young laughter.

"See, she is going red, you're not 'friends.'" She laughed some more, a snort coming in here and there before turning away and skipping, actually fucking skipping, away.

We both stood there, and suddenly the street seemed too overcrowded and to packed.

"What to skip and watch some Doctor Who?" Jace's voice was unnaturally high.

I took his hand in mine, lacing out fingers together. "Sure."

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Snow.**_


	12. Jace: Hybrid Sherlock-Cowboy Thing

_****__**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_****__**Since no one raised the issue of Clary having a boyfriend in chapter three, I think you should all go back and read the last bit after Jace has got changed. It seems like having the boyfriend names **__James_**__**** isn't that much of a help when you're all hoping for**_ Jace_**__**** to get with Clary.**

_**Age: 23**_

Not many people had heard of the Carstairs. Sure, the name popped up now and again, normally as people passed shops and saw the small notice under the name of the shop – _In ownership of Carstairs Industries. _Suffice to say, not many people remembered the line that was plastered in small italic print under every place they owned. It was hard to believe, even for me – the person who was dating the heir of the organization – that it had gone unnoticed for so long when the name was everywhere you looked.

It came in all shapes and forms, from the boldest black to a faded grey, sometimes the words were illegible due to the font that was used, and sometimes it caught your attention before you registered what the shop was called that you were looking at. It was weird that when you asked anyone about the name (and it certainly wasn't a common one at that) that only one in ten could recall memories of seeing it _somewhere, _and only one in fifty could place the name and where they had seen it.

I was one of the reclusive 0.1% that could safely say that they knew where the name resided, who possessed the name and how much money was attached to it. The only other people I knew who could tell you were the actual Carstairs family themselves and Jace and he only knew because I told him when I found out that my _boyfriend, _sweet, shy James Carstairs was set to inherit and multi-million pound business when his father retired.

James had only told me when he was sure I wasn't going to take advantage of his money, since one of his brothers (he had thirteen), had managed to get his share of the inheritance nabbed from him when he married some girl called Abigail. Although it wasn't really that surprising considering he had at least a dozen sports cars, always took me to the most expensive of places and lived in a house that was at least four times the size of mine, complete with a working fountain and swimming pool. He even had stables, what kind of guy has stables _in his backyard?_

Eventually I got used to it, I even managed to convince him that I wouldn't care if he was poor and starving and that him having a few million pounds in his pocket in the future wouldn't change a thing (even if it would make a really good backup if I went broke). It didn't mean I got used to when he took me to too some expensive place in the town and everyone started to stare at me when I walked in with him.

When I say that Carstairs name was practically unknown I mean in my social circles, in his, it's like a flashing neon sign saying _this person is important and has lots of money, worship them._

Each time he took me somewhere, anywhere, where people he knew were there I was like the shiny new toy they had just bought. There were questions, unnecessary touches and awkward conversations as well as threats and warning about James' feelings. They acted like I didn't love him, and I did, I really did, I wouldn't hurt him, not if I could help it.

This time though no one took any notice of use when we came in, either engrossed in eating the delicious food, talking to someone, or staring into each other's eyes dreamily like I saw the couple in the back corner doing.

James led me to the table right next to them murmured a few quick words then took off to get our drinks, giving me a soft smile before he left. Sometimes I wonder why he didn't go out with anyone before me, or how his name never appeared on Isabelle's hottest guys list she made each year in high school (because she did admit he should have scored a place on the list after she saw him). I recall James telling me we did go to the same school, but for both of us not to notice him he must have stayed inside all the time _and_ had all his classes underground but that would explain his pale skin, almost unnaturally pale.

I was brought out of my musings of James' silver eyes and grey-white hair by a sharp 'psssst' coming from behind me. I turned around, so fast I really should have got whiplash, and saw nobody expect a couple eating their food and some old guy with a cowboy hat and newspaper, nothing to wor-

Wait – cowboy hat, newspaper. We were in a damn restaurant for goodness sake, one that priced everything (except maybe the drinks) above what I made in a week.

"What the fuck, Jace?" I hissed, checking over my shoulder for any sign of James.

The newspaper, which I now noticed was upside down and had two circle shaped marks cut into where the woman's eyes were supposed to be, came down revealing Jace's face, a pout on his lips. "How did you know it was me?"

"Because you're the only one insane enough to actually get dressed up like a hybrid thing between Sherlock and a cowboy and go outs- What the fuck is around your throat?"

Jace looked down to where a spotty red bowtie was set off at an angle. "A bowtie…?"

I gasped, this was worse than I thought. "Why the hell are you wearing a _bowtie_?"

"Bowties are cool."

"Stop quoting Matt Smith."

"But it's not Matt Smith," he paused for dramatic effect. "It's the Doctor."

I ignored him. "Why are you trying to ruin my date?"

He scrunched his nose, placed the newspaper on the table but kept the hat on, why did he keep the hat on? "That's your date. I thought you'd said you broke up with Jem?"

I rolled my eyes, "No I said Tessa had broken up with Jem, not James and that's James. They used look the same but Jem dyed his hair brown and got contacts and he's just been adopted into Will's family. So now Tessa is going out with Will and Jem is going out with Jasmine after she dumped Gabriel when she found he was cheating on her with Cecily. But now Cecily won't talk to Gabriel because he said he was single and how she's trying to make him jealous by going out with Gideon when Sophie wanted to go out with him so Sophie is going out with Gabriel because he wanted to make Cecily jealous. So really it's all Tessa, Gabriel's and Cecily's fault and everyone else is caught up in it."

"Wait, what?" He looked confused but it really wasn't that hard to follow and if he wanted to who I was going out with he should know who everyone else is going out with as well. I blame the Herondale genetics; it seems to make them incapable to following anything apart from when it's about them. Or maybe that was just Jace and Will?

James had just finished getting our drinks and was now trying to get the attention of one of the servers to carry the drinks since he wouldn't carry both because of his cane.

"Look, Jace, I appreciate you trying to protect me from the big bad guys that might hurt me but I've been in a relationship with James for two years. I'm fine." I smiled at him, trying to reassure him that James was a decent guy, better than most.

Jace grumbled something under his breath, casting a suspicious glance back at the offending figure. Watching how he was failing to get any service at all.

_Note to self, never come here again and tell them to get better security. _

"Fine."

I raised my eyebrows, "what?"

"I said, fine. He's seems alright and he makes you happy, if you're happy, then I'm happy." He nodded his head to himself a little at the end of that sentence.

I grinned, reaching over slightly to squeeze his hand, "thanks Jace."

When James did get back, just after Jace had left, I pulled his head down to mine and kissed him softly on the lips before pulling away and looking him in the eyes. "You make me happy."

And I swear, I would kill to see that smile appear on James' face, and I was sure that nothing could pull us apart. Well, maybe except Jace, after all, we'd been friends since forever, I'd do anything for him, but for now I could just bask in the glory of James' smile, which if I ever had to draw it – I would draw it like the sun breaking out on the horizon.

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Snow.**_


	13. The Importance Of Words

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Sorry if it's a bit off, I'm writing on fumes and I can barely keep my eyes open. **_

_**Age: 16 (about a week after Clary's mum's death)**_

_**Because you all deserve a little bit of 'olde Jace PoV, you'll find it below.**_

I'd given her a week. Was a week enough? She had lost a parent, and the one I knew she was closest to as well, but a weeks a long time. She could at least let me in the house if I'd left it a week? Right?

It didn't matter anyways, all I was doing was giving her a bunch of flowers and then maybe I should hug her and maybe sneak into the house and steal so of the fabulous chocolate cake her and her mum were supposed to buy…

_Shit. _I couldn't go on thinking like this, like her mum was still alive and that Clary would even be able to look at that cake without bursting into tears. Though this was Clary I was thinking about, she would probably dig out all her old _Green Day_ albums and listen to them on repeat, maybe a little _Kodaline_ here and there, with a sprinkle of _The Narrative._

Actually, it would just be _Green Day_, all the others would be singing about love lost and Clary wouldn't want that.

I checked my reflection in the window of the blue Nissan that sat outside her house then proceeded to the front door, trying to pluck up the courage to actually knock instead of pulling off the chipped blue paint that was peeling off the door. The urge was strong but I was here for Clary, Clary whose parent had died.

If anyone knew what that felt like it would be me but the memories were hazy and fuzzy, losing their clarity through the years so all I could recall was the panic and the burning. The inside of my arm seemed to heat up, the damaged skin seeming to crawl at the memory of the fire which had caused the permanent damage to my nerves. Many a time had Clary placed some sort of food stuff there and laugh to herself when I didn't react and it dripped down the underside of my arm.

I placed a finger there now, taking comfort in the familiar pattern of the scared skin. All I had to do was knock, pass over the roses and go. I didn't have to get on my knees and declare my love, which, infinitely, would have been much worse.

I raised my hand to the door, rapping my knuckle against the hard surface. My eyes darted around the garden, landing on all the familiar features as I waited for the blue to give way to one of the two occupants that resided in the house. There was the gnome with the jauntily hat which had been broken when I had tossed the ball too hard into the garden and next to it were the flowers which I and Clary had planted at her mums request, and the pile of books that belonged to Clary-

Wait… books?

Before I could look over to see exactly which books I were lying on grass the door opened and I saw the weary gaze of large green orbs.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, which I thought would make Clary feel better but before I could the door shut again, this time with a gust of air blowing in my face and causing my carefully styled hair to ruffle slightly.

_Double shit._

The music which I hadn't noticed before increased in volume, the source of noise coming from the top right window – Clary's. The same place another book was being thrown out off, landing on the pile which was already accumulating on the lawn.

This was going to be trickier than I thought. But taking one more look at that window… well, let's just say it gave me an idea.

_**Clary**_

I knew he was going to come sooner or later, he was my best friend after all and the fact that he'd given me a week all to myself was great but it wasn't enough. If it had been I would have been out that door with my arms wrapped around him like he was a lifeline to earth. Though at the moment I wasn't sure I really wanted any of that.

My dreams had been filled with me falling endlessly downwards, falling, falling, falling. Until I would finally see some semblance of a bottom and just before I reached it, I would wake. Limbs moving around wildly as I tried to find some kind of balance. It happened so often that I had become used to it, something Jace would surely say was wrong, but also something he would probably say he had experienced to.

Because he would say something like that, he would also ask if I wanted him to stay, so that I could fall asleep knowing that he would be there if anything bad happened and that kindness would be unbearable at this moment. The moment when my every breath I took felt like I was breathing someone else's stolen breath, the one thing they had when they left the world.

Maybe I should have let him in, maybe then that night he wouldn't have been at the bottom waiting to catch me, but just missing and me waking just before I landed with a sickening crunch. I could almost hear the crack reverberating around my brain when really, it never happened.

It didn't matter though I told myself as I went downstairs to get my coffee. It didn't matter.

Though it did matter when I saw what he had done. Sitting on the table was the roses I had seen behind his back yesterday, and next to it a note and a box of DVD's. I smiled slightly, the last of my sleepiness fallen away as I went to read the note.

And maybe I loved Jace that little bit more at what he had written. They may not have been written in neat italic script (Jace's handwriting looked like his hand had gone through a grater when he was writing it), and it may have been only two sentences long, but those words, those words meant the same as a declaration of love or the promise of forever. And yes, maybe I did love him a little more for it.

_**Leaving what's on the note open for interpretation. Please don't ask, it's up to you but may I remind you that they are **__friends__** and since her mum just died I don't think he would suddenly blurt out that he was in love with her.**_

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


	14. There's Such A Thing As 'Just Friends'

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_***Italics are memories since this chapter is basically talking about funny stories between them. **_

_**** I think I've found the perfect song for this fic – **__Distance – Christina Perri. __**Go listen to it.**_

_**Age: 15**_

"So apparently Clary was stalked all the way through Year 7 by a bus driver."

"Jace, it wasn't like that, the driver had some sort of personal vendetta against me, I mean, every day he would come up behind me in his big… thing-"

"Bus."

"-and press the horn, and honestly, it was the scariest thing in my life. Even the students behind him were laughing when I jumped. Every single time." I pressed my head further into the pillow, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up onto my cheeks.

Jace continued regardless, taking my silence as an opportunity to bring up more embarrassing stories about _my _life. "Another time we were at her dad's fiftieth and she managed to walk in on a guy taking a piss."

My head shot straight up again. "Jace!"

He laughed when I made a lunge at him, pushing me back with his arm while he faced the crowd that was eagerly waiting for what had happened next. "Well, anyway, she walked in on him, squealed like a pig, and then an out and hid in her brother's room for the next hour."

"Jace, it wasn't like that. I was playing games in my brother's room, not hiding." I tried to make another leap at him, it didn't work.

"Oh, so playing _Sparkle Rainbow Unicorns 3 _is what you call playing games?"

I huffed, knowing I had lost the battle.

"_Clary, stop hiding."_

"_No."_

"_If you come out, I'll play that game you wanted to play."_

"_Sparkle Unicorns."_

_Jace grimaced. "Yeah."_

Jace grinned, put an arm around me then hugged me to his side a little too tight. "Yes, well, that was only at her dads. Another time in the school play she started to play Silent Night on her flute," _shit, not this one,_ "but something had happened and all the notes came out duff so she stopped, looked around and then ran off the stage. Everyone laughed."

"Seriously, Jace? You tell them all my stories and expect me not to tell them yours?"

His face went white, and then it was him trying to stop me from talking and not the other way around.

I tride to think of all the embarrassing moments Jace had had and then suddenly, one came to e, I was surprised, I suck at thinking under pressure, and Jace's arm tightening around me was certainly pressure. "So, this one time-"

"Clary." Like Hell am I not going to tell them this.

"-Jace decided he wanted to be a superhero-" Superman to be precise.

"Clary, stop right there." When do I ever do what he tells me to?

I continued. "-and so walked around in his underpants over his clothes for a full week." It wasn't really a sight you would want to see, I'm scarred for life by some of the designs.

The palm of his hand it the back of my head. "Clary!"

"Jace." I shot back, rubbing the throbbing wound.

He stuck his tongue out at me.

It was then that one of our friends (admittedly one from our Primary School) spoke up. I think his name was Raph, or Rap, or something like that, he was more Jace's friend then mine. To be honest I didn't know why he was here, probably dragged along by his girlfriend, Aline. And yes, I knew her.

"_Hi, I'm Aline."_

"_Move!"_

"_Let's be friends."_

"_Hi Clary, bye Clary."_

We had a… conflicting relationship.

"So, how long have you been together?"

Both out heads shot up at the same time, managed to bang against each other and send out heads back in the opposite direction. Seriously, that was two times now, and I didn't even have a pillow to rest on, I think it had been thrown somewhere past Jace…

"What-"

"We're not-"

"How could you-"

"You actually thought-"

Our laughter started at the same time, Jace gasping on the floor while I cried silent tears. God, they actually thought that I was with Jace, seriously? We were friends, _just _friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Was it a crime to be friends with a guy now without having to have feelings for him? By their stares of confusion, it was.

Wait, they were staring, and smiling, and laughing.

The laugh halted abruptly, and I tapped Jace's shoulder, trying to make him come out of his fit. He soon realised what I was trying to do and sat up, his face now looked like he'd never uttered a sound before, never mind something that had him on the floor.

"What?"

Aline and Raph/Rap shared a look, and then turned to us. The rest of the crowd also seemed to be in on the know, all smiling – the petite brunette girl, or the tall, brooding ginger, and even the huge guy that was holding a snowman teddy under his arm.

"No, seriously guys, what?" It was Jace's turn to talk and his calm words prompted more smiles from the group. "What?"

"_Clary, this is supposed to be a serious conversation."_

"_But- But- You should have seen his face." I dissolved into more laughter._

"_Clary! Serious. Conversation. You. Me."_

"_All right, what?"_

"_Alec's gay."_

Aline leaned forward, face in hands, smug grin in place. "Just do what you were doing, we're observing." Her words met nodding heads and affirmatives from the other people. Somewhere next to her I thought I heard some girl named Bath call out a _'yeah.' _I had brief memories of loud shouts and slaps on the wrist.

I grew nervous, "observing what?"

"Your body language." I didn't know people did that, they still looked at people's body language; they still could decipher what it meant. I lost that skill a long time ago, that is, if I even had it, even when we studied it in English once I can't recall anything that made a lasting impression in my mind.

Just as I was about to reply Jace cut in. Now, I know he could read people like I could read books, with a deep understanding and often with a lot of overanalysing. He could take two people who had had one fight and weave a web of intricate lies and falsehoods that made it seem like they had been rivals since childhood. "What about it?"

Raph/Rap coughed, "well, it's a bit…"

"Relationship-ie." Aline finshed.

"Relationship-ie?"

"Yeah, like you're in a relationship, like together." More nods and murmured agreements.

"_You're together right?"_

"_In a relationship."_

"_So, when did you ask her?"_

"_I thought you said you hadn't asked her?"_

"_I'm sure you said you didn't have a girlfriend…" _

Both mine and Jace's head landed on the table in front of us, a simultaneous groan following, and all the noise that it was met with were quiet sniggers and muttered _awwwws._

Why did I choose Jace to be my best friend? Oh yeah, because I was eight and delusional. Maybe if I had seen that this would happen I wouldn't have make friends with the new girl that came a week later.

If I could time travel.

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Snow.**_


	15. Drugged Up (Or Down)

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_**Age: 15**_

I had heard about it once or twice, maybe in one of my science lessons, or just through my extensive reading habits, but I had heard about it – enough to know that it was perfectly normal that Jace seemed to be in more pain then I did while I sat in the hospital bed. That however did not account to the severity of what he was feeling, I could see that his tawny eyes were glistening and the bone-crushing grip he had on my hand almost made it feel like he was the one with a broken leg and not the other way around.

Except I can't quite remember what it was called… was it… yeah, it was called Sympathy Pain or something like that. Like, if you had a strong emotional connection with someone you could almost feel their pain as if it were your own. I didn't think Jace thought about me that strongly… strange…

Or maybe he was feeling that pain I should have been under, had I not been subjected to a dozen drugs that slowed my thought process and made me focus on the small things, like how Jace looked good in that polo shirt, or how his eyes sparkled when he was crying-

He was crying… When did that happen? I don't remember that happening… And why was he crying, everything was great, and I was flying, floating, living on a cloud. How could he not feel the same? Plus, these sheets were so comfy, everything was warm and fuzzy and snug-able.

I love hugs.

"Em, Jace… you're," I waved my hand around a little and somewhere I panicked when I didn't feel any pain, but no pain was awesome, so I ignored it, "well, tears are falling." I managed to get out; I had to stop myself from blurting something weird, like how I would like to run my hands through his hair, or how I could see through his top when it was wet…

I broke my arm when it as sunny…

And now his clothes were wet…

Like water had been falling from the sky… like… Rain!

I looked over to him to see his hand, the one that wasn't holding mine, furiously wiping away the moisture that had collected in his eyes. I would have told him to leave it there, it was beautiful but I was preoccupied, why were Jace's clothes wet? Seriously, why were people not asking this question? It was a very important question.

"Hey, Jace, is it raining?"

He looked at me for a second, eyes crinkling. "Yeah, it is."

"Ohhhhhhhh." I drew it out, liking the sound the _h _made. It was like I was moving really fast somewhere and the sound was caught in the wind. My head dropped to side and I giggled a little, not feeling the pillow as I should have.

Jace muttered something, I caught the words 'said', 'different' and 'didn't know' but that was about it. I could have been about me, it could have been about something else but I really couldn't care right now. A sudden itch had taken up on my leg but the possibility of falling out of the hospital bed was all too real to make me get up and try to itch it.

But it was so damn annoying.

My hand inched towards the irritation, just missing the offending area.

"Clary?"

All I had to do was get up, but I would fall and that wouldn't be good. I would _smash _on the ground and break everything like I did to my arm.

"Clary? Clary!"

I swayed a little, pulling my hands from Jace's to prop myself up. I titled to the side. Someone caught me, their strong arms wrapping around my midsection and pulling me to their chest, and it so was warm, but a different kind of warmth then the rushing through my veins. It was more… external… yeah, outside of me.

Another laugh escaped me.

"_Fuck, _Clary."

The itching returned.

But the feeling of Jace's lips on my forehead made it go away for a second, and it was a-maz-ing. Like, how good would it be to forget the itching… maybe if I kissed him… on the lips? That would work… right?

However I was just so tired… like I was a lion after they'd eaten. I'd always thought they would have been tired after eating, really tired. Extraordinarily tired. _Clary tired._

That should be a thing, instead of 'dog-tired' we could have 'Clary-tired', then I could have my name in books, how great would that be.

_Isabelle sighed, turning to Alec, "you look Clary-tired, you should get some sleep."_

_Alec yawned, feeling it come over him like a tidal wave, maybe going out all night partying with a unicorn horn on his head hadn't been such a good idea. "I should, shouldn't I?"_

_Isabelle looked up, her already dark eyes growing ever darker, "Alec-"_

Aw, fuck, I should stop there. Incest wasn't a big thing in my life, unless becoming obsessed with a series where it was one of the main themes counted as something big in life. But no, people might ask questions. If they could read thoughts, which people couldn't. Right?

But only Jace was here and he couldn't otherwise he might know about what I thought about his lips and how soft they would be against mine and how _good _it would feel. I let my head sink into his chest (if chests could sink) and closed my eyes.

My last thought before I became dead to the world – _I really should have killed that itch._

* * *

"Hey Clary."

I looked up, shielding my eyes against the glare of the UV lights. "What?"

Jace shifted from foot to foot, something he only did when he was nervous. "I was wondering, do you remember what happened after the operation?"

I tried to think back to what he was talking about, but my last memory was when I had come into the hospital, and then I think I passed out… Or, I think I passed out, I wasn't that sure. "No… Why?"

He sighed, then bent his head down so I couldn't see his eyes. His eyes gave everything away. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, and when he looked up again his face was cheerful, like the disappointment evident in his voice before hadn't been there. I knew it was there though, I always knew, but for him I shrugged it off and tried to forget about it.

It wasn't like it would change anything, how could something I didn't remember change anything.

It was like trying to mend a broken bone without a cast, impossible.

_**So Clary on drugs… awesome.**_

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**Review?**_

_**Snow.**_


	16. She Likes The Bookish-Jerkish Type

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, quotes, songs or references that I may use in this writing; they all belong to the original owner. Any ideas of my own (take the plot for instance) and other characters that I have created belong to me.**_

_***Prequel to the last chapter. Which is coming up after the next seven (or six) chapters.**_

_**Age: 25**_

You wouldn't think someone with those looks (and going out with Tessa) would be so self-conscious, never mind as quiet. For a guy that could command the attention of an entire room is he wanted to, it was surprising that he choose not to. I'd known beforehand that he was shy, just not this shy.

Will stood awkwardly next to the wall, it seemed like his whole body was collapsing in on itself, like it wanted to be sucked into a hole in the ground, his hair, a deep jet black, flopped in front of his face, concealing his blue-violet eyes and sharp features.

Of course I knew that not everyone could so easily take control on their looks and step up to the attention that came with it but after spending a great deal with my time with Jace I would have thought it would have been in his blood. And I really shouldn't stereotype but everything else seemed to be passed on – the good looks, the half-grin, and the strange eyes colour. How could one family get both gold and violet eyes, it wasn't fair.

They even had the same body stature, lean but muscled, not that I had been looking, it's just Jace has caught me one to many times to not notice that he must do some kind of sport in his spare time, which is strange since all I ever see him do is sit on the couch, eat pizza and watch crappy remakes of crappy films.

"Hey." Why did Jace send _me _here, why couldn't he have rescheduled his date with Kealie so that he could pick up _his _cousin? I was just the friend and the last time I saw Will was when he was making out with Tessa so he couldn't see me. We didn't really talk much; I was friends with Tessa though so that's how I knew him, and he was Jace's relative.

He looked up, and I caught a glimpse of those blue-blue eyes, and _fuck _they were bluer then I thought they were, like shit_, _you could get lost in them. But Jace had eyes just like them and I was well versed in the art of looking away.

"Hi." He muttered, not meeting my eyes. I guess I do not have to employ those talents, shame really, I hadn't tested them against anyone but Jace, it would have been interesting to see if I was as resistant to someone else's stare as I was his.

I twiddled my fingers behind my back, rocking on my heels. "So… Where's your stuff?"

He shrugged, but his hand came to rest on a small bag that was slung over his shoulder, the strap must have been hidden by his Superdry coat, because everyone owned Superdry now.

"Okay, how about- Wait, did Jace tell you it wouldn't be him picking you up? 'Cause if he didn't- That would have been awkward." I let out a nervous laugh.

Will caught my eyes now, and I was surprised to see his own were like cold steel, "he didn't tell me. But it's hard to forget that shade of red hair easily."

So maybe there was a reason he was going out with Tessa, she'd always liked the bookish-jerkish type.

"Right…"

Will raised his eyebrows, "all I did was move to London, it's not like you haven't seen me before."

That was another thing, just a few weeks ago Will had moved to London and now he was back to spend a whole week with us, and Tessa, which was a good thing. Lately I'd been subjected to so many conversations about her felling 'empty' it would be good to use her boyfriend to shut her up, preferably somewhere no one else could see.

"Yeah… But it's not like we've talked for," I thought back to the time we even greeted each other, "years."

"It's not either of us are forgettable, even if they are for different reasons."

I scowled.

He looked around, impatient. "Where's the car?"

"Oh, the car- You thought-" I bit back a laugh. "I came here on the bus. My car is in for service and Jace is using his." The look of utter disgust was enough to make my day, who ever knew that Will had such a hatred for public transport. "And I don't have money for a Taxi so…"

He spared a few second to glare at me, then stuffed a hand into his bag and pulled out a wad of cash, much more than a Taxi should cost, but if he was that bothered about not being around people I guess I could tell the driver to take the long route to 'avoid traffic.' (It was a Sunday.)

"Use this, and just get my back home quick." He shoved the money at me, and I grabbed it, still thinking about his use of _home. _Shouldn't home be back in London, where he was making a life? Or was home where Tessa was?

I was still thinking about the question when I asked the taxi to take me to where Jace lived and when Tessa came through the door and wrapped her arms around Will.

I'd always thought _home _was where you would live, butthat was your house, you home was where your memories were, where you fell in love and where you were loved. That was home.

You chose your home, you made your house and home by living and creating and making.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jace stood beside me, eyes concerned, probably because I'd stared at the same spot on the wall for the past ten minutes.

I didn't answer him, not verbally at least, but I leaned against him, taking comfort. This was home, where Jace was, where my dad was, where my friends were. Where I'd loved James and where he loved me to little. Where my mum would clean my scraped knees and where I was dared to kiss a boy in year three. This was home, and I was happy.

_**Thanks for the favourites, reviews and follows.**_

_**So… Will? Thoughts?**_

_**Snow.**_


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